One day when I was about 13 years old, my father pulled a small calendar out of a drawer in the linen closet. He had circled the days on which he predicted that I was ovulating. This, he said, would tell him when to use a condom. His daily routine of raping me seemed to be "safer" now that I could see the calendar. However, there were times when I still wondered if I was pregnant when my period was late. The calendar didn't take my doubt away...it only gave my father a peace of mind that he had convinced me that this made his sexual misconduct Okay.
Remembering ritual abuse came quickly after I trusted my therapist enough to tell her of the many voices within me that controlled my life. Memories of ritual rapes in a cave seemed radically obscene to me. I didn't believe the reality of these memories. I had been convinced by members of the cult that no one would believe me if I told them about these events. But I was committed to letting my "others" tell their stories -- their truths.
As the stories unfolded, I began to trust my memories. It took some time, repeating the horror stories. But I began to believe my alters' recollections. They were as real to me as any flesh and blood human being standing next to me and they had no reason to lie to me.
Over the course of years, I began to take my power back from those who abused me. I began the arduous task of reconstructing a lifetime of terror, only to see it diminish in power over my life.
Now I can challenge any doubts I might have. Now I have tools to see through the doubt. Now I can be my own person with power to change my life.
More later,
deJoly
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